Dream
by BallisticVixen
Summary: What happens when a simple dream causes a person to do something, just to avoid what happened in their dream in real life. Will they prosper, or will they not? It's a little sad at first, not so much though. Rating will most likely change. Yaoi. Pairing: Jean x Marco. AU.
1. Dream?

**AN-WOOP! Jean x Marco story. Probably going to be sad for like a short second, but yeah.**

Warning: Rating will most likely change. Eventual yaoi. AU.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin, and even if I did I wouldn't change it. It's a wonderful manga/anime.  


_Fear... Sadness... Anger? What were those feelings that coursed through my body when I found the cold corpse of my close friend. I wanted to reach out and embrace the body lying before me, but _/fear/_ got the best of me. It rooted my feet to the ground and would not let me go. I could only stare into his sole lifeless eye. Something clenched my heart as realization kicked in... He was dead and was not coming back. Ah, that's what that feeling of tightness in my chest was; _sadness_. My fists could not clench, all I could do was tremble in _anger_. 'How did he die?' Was what repeated in my head. 'I don't even know how he died.'_

"-ean! Oi! Jean!" A dark haired male shook the shoulder of his sleeping male companion. Jean's eyes opened slowly, blinking a couple times to get the sleep out. He palmed his eyelids and gave a small grunt. As the blonde tried to get up, a sharp pain shot in his neck. He grunted as he closed his eyes shut. The male brought his hand up to his neck, rubbing it to ease his tense muscles.

'Last time I'm sleeping upright.' Slowly the young male opened his eyes again, taking in his surroundings. 'Roof? Oh...right...I'm in school.' Jean glanced at his friend, Marco, sideways. 'It was just a dream...' He huffed frustratingly and grasped the raven-haired male's necktie, tugging it towards himself and making Marco splutter, surprised at the sudden action. Marco's head fell to Jean's chest with a soft thud.

"I had a bad dream. Maybe even a nightmare." Jean embraced the older of the two like he wanted to in his dream.

"I know. You were shaking and whimpering. So I woke you up." Marco replied, but Jean didn't lighten up and continued clutching onto the other for dear life. "You wanna talk about it?" The blonde shook his head, no.

"I don't want to." He was surprised by the feeling of wet streams down his face and figured it was tears. 'Funny...I couldn't cry while his dead body was in front of me, but with the living-breathing Marco I fall apart.'

"Okay." Marco breathed into Jean's chest, simply returning the hug and nuzzling closer. Their relationship was comfortable. It wasn't awkward, nor was it romantic. It was like they were simply brothers, and to Jean, that's /all/ he wanted.

Yeah, it was perfect...until... 

"Jean! Watch out!" Before he knew what was happening, Marco roughly pushed Jean in the chest, out of the way of danger. Time slowed down and all Jean could see was a big black bus to his right speeding its way towards them.

Rain... He should have stayed inside.

He felt those feelings before...fear...sadness...anger. They came rushing back exactly like his dream. Time froze and in a second, anger was victorious. It consumed his body. 'Not fucking again.' He moved his foot backwards to stop him from tumbling back and instead pushed Marco out of danger.

"Not again." He whispered, and a small smile of accomplishment graced his lips. The bus driver had slammed on the brakes, but it didn't do much in lessening the impact that Jean was soon hit with. He was knocked away a good few feet and he felt as if all of his bones broke in that single hit. But he was okay, he had no regrets. He was able to save his close friend and not be left wondering 'Why did /he/ die and not me?'

"Jean!" Marco ran to Jean's body and cupped his bloody cheek, tears streaming down his own cheeks. Cuts ran along the right side of Jean's face and he held his side with his unharmed hand. Jean stared blankly into the gray sky. The rain pattered on his face. It was cool against his fevered skin and the adrenaline rush was slowly dying down. "Someone! Call 911!" Marco sobbed, breathing in air harshly. He clutched Jean's shirt in his hands, hunched over his body. "Don't leave me." He whispered into the blonde's ear with a quivering lip.

Jean tried his best to turn his head and look into his friend's eyes. Tears fell on his already wet face, and at that point he couldn't tell the difference between the two. His fingertips were cold, and his vision blurred. 'What even happened?'

"Don't worry...I...won't leave you..." He whispered back, eyes becoming heavy and darkness embracing his very soul. His breathing slowed.

"Don't you dare die on me! Jean!" Marco screamed as an ambulance appeared on the scene. Loud sirens filled the air, but despite it, Marco could only hear the faint breathing of Jean become shallower by the second.

_-_-_-_-_-_

**AN- Bet you weren't expecting that :P Jean takes Marco's place~ ah, how this pairing kills me and burns me to very core. I'm an amateur writer, so thanks for reading.**


	2. Memory?

AN-Enjoy the chapter~

Warning: Rating will most likely change, eventual yaoi.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin, and even if I did I wouldn't change it. It's a wonderful manga/anime.

_-_-_-_-_-_

A bright light shined in the sleeping blonde's face. The brightness made him wince in annoyance and open his eyes. Rubbing his face with his left hand and noting that he couldn't move his right one, hell his whole right arm was immobile. He also noted that there were bandages on the right side of his face. 'God...what the hell happened. My whole right side hurts...'

The blonde felt an odd weight on his lap and looked down. His eyes widened in surprise. 'Who the fuck is this?' He looked down at the male whose head was on his lap. He had black hair that was split in the middle, and freckles that blemished his face. However, the more Jean looked at him, the more he found the freckles appealing rather than ugly. It suited him in a weird way. He ignored his thoughts and pretended that he had not just thought the raven-haired male on his lap was attractive. The male's breathing was slow and even, and he seemed to be asleep.

"Hey..." Jean shook the male ruthlessly. "Hey. Wake up." He said more sternly. The male stirred and opened his eyes slowly, seemingly registering that he had fallen asleep and that Jean was now awake. He shot his head up, eyes wide. The male grabbed Jean's left hand, happy tears streaming down his face.

"Oh god! Jean, you're awake! I-" He choked on his words swallowing hard before he continued. "Th-they told me that you might not wake up! They told me you might have fallen into a coma! But I k-knew you'd pull...through... What? Why are you looking at me like that?" The young man loosened his grip on Jean's hand as something occurred to him.

"Who _are_ you?" Jean asked, confused. He pulled his hand away, uncomfortable with a stranger being so touchy-feely with him. The other male's face visibly fell, but put on a fake smile.

"Ha...haha...not funny, Jean. You scared me for a second there."

"Who the hell are you, and how to you know my name?"

"Oh...oh god." The freckle-faced male held his face in his hands. "They said something like this might happen. But I didn't think I would be true." He looked up from his hands and despite his flat tone of voice, hot tears were gushing from his eyes.

"Hey-" Jean started, but was immediately cut off by the sound of a door opening. A middle-aged man with a white coat over his basic suit walked through the threshold.

"I see you're awake, Jean. Now tell me, how are you feeling?" When he saw the man with the white coat it was reminded him of doctors or scientists but once the man asked that question, it was obvious that he was in a hospital.

"I feel like shit." Jean replied, not even caring about the use of vulgar language in the presence of an elder.

"That should be expected. Do you remember what happened?"

"No." The raven-haired male stayed quiet as Jean and the doctor discussed his health.

"I feared so..." The doctor's face became grave, his blue eyes glazing over. "Well, I am Dr. Smith. Mr. Kir-"

"Please, Jean is okay."

"Jean, I'm not going to sugarcoat anything, so basically you've lost your memory." That was the start of a one-sided conversation between Jean and Dr. Smith.

After a good hour or two, Jean was fully informed of what happened, but he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the freckle-faced male was someone named Marco and that he pushed him out of the way of a bus, taking the hit himself. Perhaps he couldn't understand it because he was just a stranger to him, another face he never met before. They concluded that Jean indeed remember things, in fact almost everything. The only thing he couldn't remember was Marco and how he ended up in the hospital. It was all a gray haze. Dr. Smith had left Jean to his own thoughts

"What were we?" Jean asked out of the blue, a few minutes after the blonde doctor left. Marco seemed to have saddened even more at Jean's use of the word "were".

"Friends...we _were_ friends." Marco bit his bottom lip, as if to stop himself from saying anything stupid or rash. "Jean... I guess I'll go." Marco looked depressed. "See you in school."

"...Yeah...see ya..." Jean rubbed the nape of his neck. His eyes widened as he remembered something, or at least a quick glimpse of it. A memory came flooding back and as soon as it came it left. That short second left him confused, even more than before, and all he could make out was a dead body, a jumble of emotions, and waking up.

He massaged his temple, feeling an oncoming headache.

'This is going to be a long day.'

_-_-_-_-_-_

AN- I think I remember that when I watched "Boys Over Flowers", Goo Jun-pyo lost his memory when he got hit by a car and like he only forgot Geum Jan-di because he was thinking about her while he got into the accident and he was having like stress and anxiety over her. So, the brain being derpy, its immediate response was to forget her because his body was getting rid of the cause of anxiety and stress. Basically same concept here, Jean was thinking about Marco at the time but like since his body was under so much pressure, he forgets him, everything he ever did with him, and the accident.


	3. Empty?

**AN- Still writing this. It's more for myself than for anyone else. FEELS.**

**Warning: Rating will most likely change, eventual yaoi.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin, and even if I did I wouldn't change it. It's a wonderful manga/anime.**

It was a few weeks later that Jean was allowed to leave, and during those weeks Marco had not visited him at all. The blonde didn't really know what to expect, they weren't exactly close, were they? It was actually lonely. _Actually_, no one had come to visit. The only person he spoke to was Dr. Smith, and that was only to talk about his health and wellbeing.

To the doctor's surprise, Jean had recovered well. Though he would need to walk around in crutches and keep the cast on for both his right leg and arm, the teenager was glad he could finally move around alone.

He collected what little stuff he had and limped his way towards the door. Jean's mother, who was waiting outside of the hospital room, took the day off of work to help her son settle into their home. The blonde smiled at his mother. It was obvious she was worried about her son by the tired look on her face, but with work she never got the chance to visit him while he was bedridden. She gently grabbed the clear bag with Jean's belongings so he could use his crutches properly.

'_This is going to take a while to get used to.'_ His mother walked ahead of him, leading the way out. He followed behind with much difficulty, still lost in his thoughts. _'Why didn't Marco visit at all? I thought we...were friends. _Were_ friends. Why am I even stressing over this?'_ He furrowed his brows and had something akin to a scowl on his face.

"If you keep that look on your face, it's going to stay like that." Jean's mother interrupted his thoughts, flicking his forehead. He rubbed it with his good hand and gave her a look of disbelief. "Is something bothering you?"

"I don't really want to talk about it…" His mom gave him a look that knew he was lying. Truth was that he _wanted _to talk about it with someone; he was just being reluctant about it. "Do you already know? That I can't remember anything about…Marco, and how I even ended up here?"

"Yes, I Dr. Smith told me all about it. He said it doesn't happen often, losing your memory that is, and that you may never reacquire your memories again. It really depends. Each case with your condition was different." She answered truthfully, but Jean still had a grimace painted on his face. "Anything else you want to say?"

"I can't help but feel...I don't know...sad? I keep finding myself thinking about...Marco, like all the time. And the more I think about him the more empty I feel, like a piece of me has been torn out. He didn't even come and visit the whole time I was here. I find it hard to believe that I risked _my _life for an ass-ouch…" Jean pouted when his mom smacked him over the head for using that kind of language in front of her. _'Leave it to my mom to not care that I almost died and inflict more damage.'_ He huffed. "How could I risk my life for a _person _who doesn't even care about me? He just left the day I woke up and I never saw him again since! Why do I want to see him so much?! How can I feel this way about someone I don't even _know_? Ugh...it's like I'm a schoolgirl in love." He threw his left hand up in the air, cursing the world in his head. The teen had no clue why, but he could feel tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Jean had so many emotions going through him that he couldn't tell what was what anymore. It was like his heart knew something his brain couldn't comprehend or remember.

The blonde clutched his chest and shut his eyes to keep from crying. _'Why? Why am I acting like this?' _He sighed, feeling a single hot tear roll down his cheek. His eyes shot open as something came back to him again; a memory. It was raining and cold. Another person was hunched over him crying, hot tears dripping onto his own face. Jean wiped the tear away, groaning because he was remembering _something_, but he didn't know _what._ Nothing, not even the physical pain he was feeling, could compare to the pain he was feeling deep inside.

"Are you done whining?" Mrs. Kirschstein asked. Jean sniffled a little and nodded. "Good. Well, what do I think? I think you really miss him, or at least the you inside of you. That brain of yours might not remember all the things you and Marco went through together, but your heart-and everyone who had the opportunity to witness such a relationship, including myself-remembers it. The two of you were close. And maybe, he's just been busy with school and other stuff. Not everyone can lay around and do nothing. So quit moping!" His mom had a point. She frowned and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Let's go." And with that, she marched her way down the hall and towards the elevator. He stared at her back; a little confused.

'_What if he really was busy this whole time and I thought he was ignoring me? GOD, I feel like an _idiot._' _Jean smiled to himself and began to hobble after his mother. _'Yeah, I think everything will be okay.'_

The car ride home was rather silent. It bothered Jean a little, but when he reached out to turn on the radio, his mom smacked his hand away. He pouted, of course, and huffed in annoyance. Maybe she wanted him to really think about what she had said. It was working.

_'I could try calling him when I get home... He'll probably answer, right?'_ Jean rummaged through his bag of belongings, and found his phone. Flipping it open and immediately going to his contacts. '_Why didn't I think about this before? Oh, right. I was being an idiot. Let's see...'_ He kept pressing the down button until he reached the M's and looked at the people's names. There it was, "Marco". It made him giddy, and he wanted to call him right then and there. However, his mom was present, plus school was only half over.

The teenager smiled smally as he closed his phone and dropped it back into his bag. Before he knew it, they were pulling up into the driveway of their home and Jean couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief and happiness. Quickly, he undid his seatbelt and opened the car door, stumbling as he got out. He looked at the house, seeing just as he remembered. Another flash of a memory came back to him.

_"Why don't you just stay over? It's late, and I'm sure your parents won't mind." Jean smiled at the figure in his memory._

_"I guess you're right..." The other person smiled back. Jean grabbed the other person's arm, pulling him inside the one-story house._

"Ugh." He rubbed his temples. _'I'm getting sick and tired of all these memories that just keep coming back.' _He made his way towards the front door and stood there, waiting for his mom to unlock the door for him. Mentally, he praised the lords that he lived in a single floor house. The blonde could only imagine how difficult it would be to have to climb up a flight of stairs just to get to his room or something.

"Still thinking about what I said?" The woman asked as she inserted the key, unlocking the door, and wiggling it back out. Jean looked up at his mother. She pushed the door open and placed the keys on a table near the door.

"Sort of…" He glanced back outside, feeling someone's eyes on him, as he walked into his home. _'It's nice to finally be back.'_ He smiled to himself.

"I'm going to make lunch, anything you want?"

"Nope."

"I'll call you when it's ready." Jean didn't bother replying and just headed over to his room. He leaned against his door, forcing it open and tossed his bag on the floor somewhere. _'My room...' _It was clean, courtesy of Mrs. Kirschtein. He didn't particularly like his mom cleaning his room, especially when he wasn't there to supervise, but he didn't mind it since there was no way he was going to clean the room himself. Yawning, he limped over to his dresser, already ditching his crutches, and pulled out fresh set of "lazy" clothes.

The blonde sat on his bed, pulling off the loose t-shirt on as carefully as he could. He looked over at his body mirror and saw in the reflection his light tan torso masked with bandages and scars. Gently, he traced a recently healed cut with his index finger, shivering at the feeling. Jean snapped out of his odd trance and pulled a white tank top over his head and onto his body. He stopped to take a break. _'This is more of a workout than I thought it would be. I'm starting wish that I stayed in the hospital a little longer...'_ Unwillingly, he raised his hips a bit to pull his shorts off with much difficulty. Heaving in a painful breath, the teenager managed to take it off. He pulled on some old black shorts with more ease than it took to get them off.

Jean laid back onto his bed, relishing in the feeling of his fluffy thick blankets under him. _'But then again...these blankets are _way _better than the thin and itchy ones they have at hospitals.' _He grinned childishly and sighed in content. Sure, he was still in a lot of physical pain, but that's what painkillers were for, and for some odd reason, the teen really couldn't keep his stupid smile off his face.

**AN- I'll stop it here. Yay! Why not? Jean talking about his feels is by far my favorite thing I've ever written. Reviews are nice :3**


	4. Ignoring?

**AN- Yay~ Chapter four.**

**Warning: Rating will most likely change, eventual yaoi.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin, and even if I did I wouldn't change it. It's a wonderful manga/anime.**

Amber eyes opened slowly. They stared at a white ceiling, registering what they saw.

Jean pulled himself up into a sitting position, using his left arm to support his body. With blurry vision, he looked around. There was still light out and there was just enough sunlight coming from a window to be able to see his surroundings. _'Right… I'm back home.'_ He looked to his right and saw a note written in neat handwriting that he recognized as his mother's. _'When did I even fall asleep?'_ The teen turned his body so his legs could hang off the side of his bed.

While reaching to grab the white paper, he felt his stomach growl in hunger. He didn't actually like eating so much, not at that moment at least. From being unconscious for half a week, he was fed through a tube, and even after he woke up, Dr. Smith didn't allow Jean to eat any type of regular food for two weeks. All he could eat was a flavorless porridge that made him gag at first, but he eventually got used to it. And even after those two weeks, the blonde never ate any heavy or greasy meals; he could only eat something plain like a salad or soup.

He picked up the paper and began to read it.

_Dear Jean,_

_ I was called back in for work. I'm sorry we couldn't spend the rest of the day doing something together. I left your lunch/dinner in the microwave. Eat as much as you can. Your painkillers are on your bedside table. Take one every 12 hours or when you are feeling particularly achy._

_Love,_

_Your Mom_

Jean grinned at small heart and smiley face his mom drew at the bottom. He then looked to where the note previously was and saw a small orange bottle, that he guessed was the painkillers his mom wrote about. The teen stood up, limping his way out of his room and into the kitchen. He opened the microwave, checking to see if the promised food was there, and indeed it was. It was a basic meal of chicken and white rice covered with plastic food wrap. The amber-eyed male wasn't sure if he could stomach it, but decided to try and eat anyway. He peeled off the plastic and set the microwave to 2 minutes while looking behind him to check the time on a clock in the dining room. It read 5:37. _'Oh yeah, I was going to call Marco when school ended.'_

Jean turned around, limping to get back to his room. _'Yup. This is already getting annoying.'_ He walked through the already open door and found the forgotten bag on the floor. Digging through the bag, he picked out his small flip phone and dropped the bag back onto its place on the floor. Jean looked through his contacts, finding Marco's name once more and pressed the call button.

Anticipation. It filled his very being as he brought his phone ear, hearing the sound of the phone number dialing. First tone. Second tone. The call connected. He could feel his heartbeat quicken in the slightest bit.

"Hey, Mar-"

"Hello, sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please, leave a message after the beep. -Beep-" A sudden sharp pain appeared in his chest.

'_It only rang twice… Did…did he ignore my call?' _The teen ended the call, closing his phone shut and placing it on the dining table. _'Was my mom wrong? Is Marco really avoiding me?'_ He looked at the microwave, seeing that it was done even though he had not heard the timer go off. Jean opened the microwave once more, taking out the plate of food and walking it over to the wooden table. He limped back to the microwave and shut it as he pulled the drawer that was filled with utensils open. _'Why am I acting like this? It's not like he's obligated to me.'_ He picked up a fork out of the drawer, but dropped it in the process. The blonde pushed the drawer back in, and bent over to pick up the fork.

He hadn't noticed it before, but his hand was shaking. Jean bit his bottom lip, and brought his hand up, holding his face in something akin to shame.

"Why?" The tight feeling in his chest was back, grasping his heart in a tight hold. _'It hurts.' _He groaned, frustrated with these feelings that he never recalled having to experience before. "Why?" A tingly sensation formed in his eyes, that he immediately knew was him about to cry. "No, I refuse to cry over him _again_."

With that, the blonde grabbed the fork off the floor and wiped with his shirt on his way over to the table. He sat down, eating quickly and rather aggressively. However, midway of his third bite he stopped, placing his fork onto his plate and pushing said plate away. Jean dropped his head onto the surface of the table, hitting his forehead lightly and placing his left hand on his lap as the other was still supported by his blue arm sling.

Jean looked out the dining room window, seeing but no longer registering what they saw. The teen blinked slowly; eyes dark and glazed over.

"I do miss him. God knows why, but I really do miss him." No longer in denial, he sat up straight again and pulled the plate back to himself. With a blank expression, the blonde continued eating. After a good twenty minutes, he was done and brought the dirty plate over to the sink, turning on the faucet and back off to rinse the plate. Instinctively, he walked to his room and turned on the TV, sitting on his bed to watch.

Hours passed when he heard the doorbell ring. He figured it was his mom and she simply forgot her key to the house, but that was silly since it was always on the set of car keys she used. Jean got off his bed and made his way towards the door. The bell rang once more. Twice more. It kind of pissed the blonde off, and his limping and having to take his time wasn't helping. Gritting his teeth, he shouted "I'm coming!" He sighed in relief when the bell stopped ringing. _'I should have grabbed my crutches on the way out of my room.'_

The teen swung the door open, ready to give whoever was on the other side a mouthful. But once he saw who it was, he was at a loss for words. Everything froze and the only thing he could manage to say was, "Marco?"

There at his front doorsteps was his supposed black-haired, freckle-faced friend, Marco, sweating and panting like he had just ran a marathon. 

**AN- Annnnnd done. Chapter 4 is completo. You probably expected that though, huh?**


	5. Marco?

**AN- Woop, Chapter 5. Enjoy~ And thank you to the kind guest that left a review for me. You already know the Warnings and Disclaimer by now.**

"Marco?" Jean looked at the said person in awe. He had not been expecting Marco to appear at his door at all. So many possibilities came to mind: a salesperson, a deliveryman, a neighbor welcoming him back, _everything_, but just not Marco. Confusion and a different kind of tightness filled the blonde's chest.

"Jean!" Marco exclaimed breathlessly. The rain-haired teen's face was adorned with a bright smile, obviously happy to see the other in front of him. Eyes still wide in surprise, Jean slammed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard. He was so confused, it was like being a fish thrown onto dry land and all he could do was keep gaping at what he had just seen. The blonde had no clue what was going on, or what he was feeling. That tight feeling in his chest was actually nice, in a weird way. The amber-eyed teen was simply lost. "Open the door, Jean!" All he knew was that the person or image that had been causing him to feel all of those things was outside his house, lightly banging against the door.

It was impressive that Marco could do something that was meant to be aggressive so gently, but still have the same emotions behind it; urgency, anticipation, wonder, _hope._

"Go away. You're not really there." Jean wanted to scream, he wanted to make the person at his door leave, but all he could manage was a weak voice that was only barely heard by the other. 'I must be crazy. Do I miss him so much that I'm hallucinating?'

"It's me! Open the door, please?" Marco pleaded, his voice almost convincing Jean to just open the door and let him in. But then he remembered what happened earlier that day, no less than three hours ago.

"Well, if it really is you, why didn't you answer my phone call earlier? You just sent it straight to voicemail." A familiar feeling of anger filled Jean's being. He clenched jaw, keeping his hand balled up in a tight fist at his side.

"What?" The light banging against the door stopped, the feeling of it on the blonde's back disappeared and a sense of dread washed over him. Had Marco left? Did he just get tired and give up? Questions similar to that had filled Jean's head and made him regret even asking the question. The blonde felt immediate relief when he heard the other's voice again. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with anything." Anger no longer consumed him, rather it was wonder and curiosity that made him want to know the answer.

"I was at work, you kn-er...actually you don't know that." Marco's voice faded, and it was well-known that he had already forgotten about Jean's "condition".

'_Oh god, now I feel like a complete idiot.' _The blonde felt his face become unbearably hot, making the teen bring his hand up to hide his face with his hand. _'I can't remember anything about him, yet I'm losing my shit because he didn't, or more like couldn't answer my phone call.'_ It was nice; he felt relieved and he no longer had a tight, soul-crushing feeling in his chest. Even though Jean was sure that his hand was warm, it felt as though it was at least ten degrees cooler than his face. A goofy smile came across his face as he relished in the fact that he wasn't being ignored. After what had seemed to be a lifetime, Jean turned around and opened the door. Although the blonde knew Marco was outside waiting for him to open the door, he was still a little surprised to see that the freckle-faced teen was indeed there.

"Get in." Jean muttered, keeping the best uncaring look on his face. Marco gladly obliged, smiling brightly as he stepped into the Kirschstein residence. The taller laughed lightly.

"You never really were good at expressing your emotions." Jean heard the other whisper to himself, but chose to dismiss it, taking no real offense to it. He was already getting tired of keeping up his little act when all he really wanted was to have a nice conversation with Marco and maybe laugh a little. Things like that. "Do you mind if I grab a glass of water?"

"Knock yourself out." Jean said as he shrugged and actually looked at Marco. The blonde leaned against the dining table as the other went into the kitchen to grab a cup of water. Sweat shined in the kitchen light as it rolled down Marco's face, passing over his freckles. The raven-haired male grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, bringing it up to wipe his face as he opened a cupboard with all the chinaware. Jean couldn't help notice that it was as if Marco knew exactly where everything was. But he also couldn't help himself from taking a good long look at the other's well toned abs, his fingers twitching as if wanting to reach out and grab the taller teen. Jean shook his head, ignoring what just happened. By then, Marco already had a cup filled with water and he was sipping at it slowly. After downing all of the water, the freckle-faced teen sighed in relief that he was able to quench his thirst.

"Why are you even so sweaty?"

"Ah, when you called I couldn't answer since I was at work, as you know. Then when I got off work an hour and a half later I tried calling you back like three times, but you didn't answer." Jean glanced at his phone behind him, feeling a little guilty that he flipped out because Marco had not answered one phone call, but he himself had not answered at least one out of three of them. "So I went to the hospital to go visit, but when I asked where you were (because you weren't in the room I last saw you in) they told me you had already checked out. So I took a bus that and the closest it would drop me off at was down the hill and I kind of justran all the way up here. I really wanted to see you." Jean grinned as little as he could. 'You're not the only one.'

"I'm here." Jean gesticulated to himself, making the other snicker.

"What a Jean thing to say." Marco said, laughing more and holding his sides. His giggling was music to Jean's ears. It was gentle and soft, but filled with depth and meaning. It made him want to join in on all the fun. The taller teen's laughter had ceased after a while and he cleared his throat, a smile on his face.

"Wanna watch TV?" Jean asked after a short moment of silence.

"It's getting kind of late. I was only pla-" Marco said as he looked at the clock on the wall.

"Why don't you just stay over?" Jean's brows furrowed as a dull pain pressed against his brain.

_"Why don't you just stay over? It's late, and I'm sure your parents won't mind." Jean smiled at _Marco.

_"I guess you're right..." _Marco _smiled back. Jean grabbed the _Marco's _arm, pulling him inside the one-story house._

"Hm~ oddly enough, you've said that to me before. More than once, actually." Jean whimpered as he touched his forehead. _'Am I starting to remember Marco again?'_ The blonde was lost in his thoughts. "Are you okay with that?"

"Huh?" Thinking that Marco was talking about him remembering his friend again he replied with, "of course." But then he realized it wasn't possible that the other could possibly know what he was thinking.

"I'm glad it doesn't matter that I'm basically a stranger to you." The raven-haired teen grinned, showing how pleased he was with Jean's answer. In a silent agreement, they made their way to his room and sat down on the bed the amber-eyed male was previously sitting on. The slightly shorter of the two flipped through the channels, finding something that deep down inside he knew Marco would enjoy watching and judging by the small quirk of the other's lips he was right. He placed the remote off to the side, leaving it there, forgotten.

It was comfortable and they sat in mutual silence, the TV being the only sound that could be heard in the house.

Sometime later, Jean had started to notice the quick glances he kept on getting from Marco. It was nothing at first, but it had slowly started to become more frequent. Confused, the blonde turned his head to look at the raven-haired teen that just so happened to be at the same time the dark-haired teen glanced at him. The taller looked away, ignoring the fact that they clearly made eye contact. After that, Marco had not stolen a peek at Jean. It confused Jean even further, making him feel extremely awkward and suddenly the proximity of their bodies made him uneasy. He shifted in his place on the bed and turned to look at his freckle-faced friend, deciding it would be best to make conversation before he felt any more awkward.

"Hey, Marco."

"Hm?" This time Marco actually turned his upper body to look at Jean, almost immediately warding away any uncomfortable feelings Jean had earlier. The blonde cleared his throat as he got ready to say whatever and looked off to the side.

"To be honest… I really missed you. I don't know how I can miss someone I don't even know, but I kept thinking about you and you always crossed my mind. At first it was a little annoying-actually maybe even very annoying-but the more I thought about you, the more I found the thought of you harder to resist." With that last thought, Jean looked back to see Marco's face. What the blonde saw was unexpected.

"I-uh-" His friend was blushing a deep crimson red, rubbing the back of his neck. His freckle-faced friend was at a loss for words. His raven-haired friend was averting his eyes, unable to keep eye contact. His beautiful friendwas right there in front of him and he felt whole again. The emptiness in his chest was filled and he was complete with _his friend_ sitting there next to him.

It was as if Jean had lost control over his body and everything he did was just out of instinct.

The blonde brought his hand up to the other's face, caressing Marco's cheek to make the other look at him. Chocolate brown eyes met amber ones; they gazed into each other, reading one another's soul. Jean leaned in while tilting his head, and before either knew what was going on, their lips met. They matched together perfectly, fitting so well that it was just meant to be. The blonde's lips curved around the dark-haired teen's bottom lip and the latter's curved around the former's top lip. The kiss sent electric shocks through the Jean's body, making him shiver from the foreign sensation. It was long and warm, but chaste. It felt so _right _to the amber-eyed teen and he wanted more, but just as soon as the kiss started it ended. The blonde pulled back, eyes wide and blushing from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

**AN- Hope you liked that kiss scene. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Kiss?

**AN- I have no idea where I'm going with this… I'll figure something out. Also! Thank you for those that reviewed, I really appreciate it :D There is like a severe lack of JeanMarco on this site. Sorry this is so short, and that I haven't updated in a few weeks. School has been getting crazy. Rating is going to change for the next chapter :)**

"I-I'm sor-" Jean stuttered, standing up and bringing his hands up for defense. His heart was racing and all he could hear was his blood rushing in his ears. He just wanted the world to swallow him up and let him fall into an endless abyss. The teen would much rather feel that horrible knot in his stomach than the embarrassment and fear of losing a friend that he felt so deeply connected to. 

Lost in his own thought, the blonde couldn't hear what Marco had to say. He could _see _the other's lips moving, but the words were just not registering. A cold sweat came over his body. '_What if he hates me forever now? Way to screw up another thing that makes me happy._' Jean could feel tears biting at his eyes, threatening to pour out without consent.

Marco gripped Jean's wrist, slowly pulling him onto the bed again. The blonde began to fill with fear. He didn't want to know what his friend had to say to him; he didn't want to hear how he was going to be hated by strangely the most important person (to him) in the world. Jean closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. But what came? A pair of soft lips pressed against his, not once, nor twice, but multiple times. He opened his eyes in surprise and saw a pair of half-lidded brown orbs gazing lovingly into his own. Warmth overcame him, slaying the black demon within him. 

The blonde had not noticed it earlier, but his previously shaking body was now calmed. Marco had pulled an inch away, smiling like an idiot. But if Jean had to call it anything, he would call it cute. 

"What?" The amber-eyed teen asked. 

"The Jean that remembers me would hate me for saying this, but…I think I like the Jean that doesn't remember me better." The raven-haired boy touched Jean's left wrist, gently looping his fingers around it and guiding Jean's hand to his face. Marco brought his lips to kiss his palm, not at all minding the slight sweat that had been there, and smiled into his friend's hand. He moved the blonde's hand to caress his own cheek. Jean complied and cupped Marco's cheek, brushing his thumb over the freckles that he found immensely adorable. "I've actually had the hugest crush on you ever since we first met…" The freckle-faced teen leaned into the touch, his eyes saddening a little. "But I valued our friendship more than my own selfish needs. I didn't want things to get weird between us if I told you and you didn't feel the same way."

Jean's eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth was slightly agape, and he was completely at a loss for words. He heard every word his friend had said, but none of it really registered. Though when it did, he was stuttering incoherent words and blushing madly. Jean's heart was racing again, but in a nice way and he couldn't seem to look at Marco in the face. The blonde wanted to withdraw his hand from Marco's cheek to cover his embarrassment, but the other's hand had been holding his own in place. He looked to his friend, seeing the most beautiful person he ever laid eyes on.

Jean never realized how attractive Marco really was until that very moment. The latter's lips were soft, well-shaped, almost always curved in a small smile, and were a really light shade of pink. His cheeks were adorned with the cutest freckles that suited him a lot. They weren't ugly and instead of being a blemish upon Marco's features, they enhanced them. His eyes were the deepest color of brown and were filled with mystery and wonder, but they had nothing to hide. They were open books that Jean wouldn't mind reading for the rest of his life. Jean could go on and on about how perfect Marco was, but that could take _years_ maybe even decades. 

"I can't believe I never laid a hand on you in _that _way." Jean sighed. He was so comfortable with sitting next to Marco. The raven-haired teen smiled.

"Think about how _I _feel. I've been holding back for three years." Marco chuckled softly, looking into the blonde's eyes. The freckle-faced teen smiled, as he leaned in to steal another kiss, slowly closing the space between the two. Jean leaned in a little, and just as their lips almost touched, the front door opened and was slammed shut. They pulled away from each other, their hearts beating and their faces flush. 

"Jean, I'm home! Why wasn't the front door locked?" Jean's mom called out from the dining room, putting her bags on the dining table as she looked through some junk mail. 

"Ma-" Jean tried, his voice cracking before he could even say the first word of his sentence. His friend snickered, mocking Jean for his voice cracking. It wasn't his fault though, he was still going through puberty. The amber-eyed teen pouted as he cleared his throat. "Marco just came over. It's okay if he sleeps here, right?" 

"He's here?" Mrs. Kirschtein walked to his room door and leaned against the threshold. "Hey, Marco." She smiled, crossing her arms.

"Hello, Mrs. Kirschtein. How are you?"

"Good, thank you for asking. You can always sleep over in my house, just remember to tell your mom."

"I know… but it seems Jean over here doesn't." Marco laughed, patting Jean on the shoulder. Said teen frowned at his friend's teasing.

'_He's slept in my room before?_' Feels slightly giddy and wants to remember all those days, but can't. '_I'm such a schoolgirl_.' He sighed, looking at the raven-haired teen and back down at his hand. '_At least now...I feel complete._' Jean looked up to see that Marco was still conversing with his mom. In an odd, but not uncomfortable way, he felt slightly left out. Still, he didn't care because he was sitting next to someone important to him.

"Well, have fun, you two." She left patted the doorframe and grabbed the doorknob, pulling it closed. The blonde reached over to touch Marco on the shoulder, letting his hand rest there for a second, then slid it down the length of his arm to intertwine his fingers with Marco's. The freckle-faced teen looked to Jean confused and gave him a questioning look.

"I feel whole when you're with me." The blonde looked elsewhere, embarrassed to look at his companion in the eye.

"I like you, Jean." Marco replied, giving Jean a reassuring hand squeeze. The amber-eyed teen blushed, shyly looking at the other.

"Idiot…" 

"I like you a lot."

"I think I like you, too." Jean muttered. The freckle-faced teen beamed with happiness, smiling widely. The blonde felt as though he were going crazy. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and lifted their hands up. He observed that small freckles were speckled on his hand as well. The amber-eyed boy brought his lips down to kiss each of Marco's knuckles. Jean dropped their hands back down at their sides, smiling at his raven-haired companion. The latter smiled back, and they sat in comfortable silence.

It was nice for them to sit and watch TV together without a care in the world.

**AN-Just a heads up, porn in the next chapter. You've been pre-warned. Happy tidings :)**


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